Sheens Secret Supper

The deal with Secret Supper Clubs, a phase currently sweeping the globe. Is that you go to a strangers house, you give them money, they give you food (and in some cases wine). Some venues you are at your own table (within elbow distance of your neighbor), others, you dine communally and get to know your fellow campers.

On this particular gorgeous Saturday evening, in a secret undisclosed (well it is secret) location, a group of diners came together to partake in a repast in a strangers home. We were welcomed into their place of residence, made to feel at home, drinks proffered and introductions made. Its 'Come Dine With Me' without the cameras, tanties and bitching.

This evening saw us dining with D&K, friends from Oz who have been calling London home for 8 years now. We were all Secret Supper Virgins and eager to see what all the fuss was about.

Upon seating we are presented with a dish of marinated olives and gherkins. Hussyband and I were starving after having spent the afternoon in a pub yelling at Chelsea, and D&K were running late....so we might have scoffed the lot. They had a nice bite of chilli and garlic and were firm and delicious.

D&K finally made it through the nightmare that is London traffic, were seated, water poured and our first course bought to the table.....

Butterbean & Bacon Soup with Chili, served with Parma Ham Soldiers on the side. This has to be the best soup I have ever eaten. It was full bodied, with a hint of saltiness from the bacon and a good after-kick in the back of the throat from the chili. There was also a large basket with an assortment of bready goodness that was used to wipe all of our bowls clean.

Our main course was Stuffed Breast of Lamb with Wild Garlic, Dripping Potato Cake and Onion Sauce. The sauce and potato cake were absolutely to die for. Sadly, mine and 2 of the other 3 dishes at the table had really really overcooked lamb. I wanted to love it, truly I did, I am an Aussie, we love our lamb, it is coded into our DNA to eat their cute little bouncy flesh. But I just couldn't and that made me very sad. From comments from the other tables, we were not the only ones suffering from this malaise.

The cheese course was scoffed so fast I could not even take a photo of it, I tried, all I got was fuzzed images of what could be fists grasping yellow things. Vultures!!

And finally we come to the pud. We all know how I can pound a good pud into submission, and this was no exception. Bakewell Tart with Rhubarb and Pink Grapefruit Jam, and Rhubarb Ice-cream....drool. Just drool. I didn't see any of the jam on my plate, but the tart was amazing, the ice-cream delightfully tarty (like my Hussyband) and together they finished off the meal perfectly.

Throughout the evening our glasses were topped up regularly by the host, and I would have to say that our first foray into the world of Supper Clubs has been a success.

Watch out for the owls if you ever make it here....I am sure they are just faking being stuffed, whereas by the time we left, we really were.